


Spring Daze

by IAmNotSam



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNotSam/pseuds/IAmNotSam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spring is the season of new beginnings. Everything seems to bloom and come to life again. But for new couple Carmilla and Laura, could this season mean the start of a series of relationship hits? Or misses?</p><p>Watch Carmilla as she pulls some of her greatest tricks when her artillery of pet names fails.</p><p>[ You get to decide their fate in the succeeding chapters! Have fun! ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kickoff

I poured myself a cup of blood, leant against a counter in the dorm kitchen, and openly studied Laura.

Oh how unpredictable life truly was, I chuckled to myself. It seemed not so long ago that Laura Hollis had entered my life. One day, there she was, this tiny, awkward, pretty nerd—gorgeous, sexy, smart, loquacious, funny, sassy, fearless. And my life had never been the same again. I’d fallen for her, hard and fast. 

Laura’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wide. She was looking at me like I was breakfast—and I loved it.

I sipped my drink, my eyes not leaving hers. “Craving again?”

Blushing some more, Laura took a frozen waffle from the freezer and slid it into the toaster. “Your ego is unbelievable.”

My response was quiet chuckling. Our untamed tryst under a white willow tree yesterday was so extreme, I didn’t know if it was appropriate to bring it up. That was our first time and we’d practically attacked each other. I thought it was really special, regardless of Laura’s nonstop mumbling, fumblings and awkward hands. And she wasn’t lying when she said she was a fast learner. 

“So . . .” I began, “yesterday was—”

“Don’t even mention it, Carmilla,” she warned.

“The graduation party?” I asked with a teasing smirk. “I was gonna talk about the party. But if you want to talk about other more noteworthy things that took place yesterday then—”

“You’re a twat and I refuse to talk to twats today,” she said, eliciting a laugh from me.

Look how funny this girl was. Just like the change of seasons, Laura was my Spring. My favourite. She was the breath of fresh air I never knew until now I needed in my life. So just imagine how relieved I am at the moment that after a few rocky months of running around in circles with my roommate, I get to call her my girlfriend now. 

“Oh, come on, cupcake,” I groaned. “Is this our first fight as a couple? Are we fighting already?”

“Not really.” Her eyes narrowed a little when she looked at me. “But if you’re gonna remain a twat for the rest of the day then soon we will and it’s gonna be bloody.”

“Come here, cutie,” I cooed, pulling the tiny, pajamas-wearing girl into my arms for a hug. “Don’t be embarrassed. We were all inexperienced at some point.”

“Wow,” Laura scoffed as soon as I released her. “Thanks heaps for the morale boost, Carm. That made me feel a _lot_ better.” As I laughed, she took her waffle from the toaster and ate it like a cookie.

“Just to set the record straight, you were _amazing_ yesterday,” I said, reaching for a box of cereals from the cupboard. “I mean it. I’m now officially a fan of your awkward fingers.”

Laura let out a chuckle, in spite of herself. “If there was a course for verbal flirtation, Carm, I’m sure you’ll get an A.”

Grinning, I poured some cereal into a bowl. “You know you love it, cutie.”

Laura suddenly trapped me against the kitchen counter, raising her brows naughtily. “You know what else I love?” Biting her lip, she stared at my mouth with such intensity.

I lifted a questioning eyebrow.

“Your perfect mouth,” she murmured, her gaze not leaving my lips. “Your perfect kisses.”

“Of course,” I said, smirking. “Let me indulge you some more with that, then.”

I reached forward, took the blonde’s face in my hands and kissed her. It started out as a playful type of kiss with my eyes open and smiling, but all that changed when our tongues met. Laura dragged me onto the table, mindless of the cups crashing to the floor, and in an instant her hands were under my shirt.

I gasped in protest, but her mouth covered mine, and objection quickly turned to obsession as desire bit into me as well. We drank in each other, trembling under the intensity of our passion. I wondered if I could survive wanting and needing someone like this.

Still on the kitchen table, we slowly became aware of our surroundings. Blood and cereal had been flung from one end of the kitchen to the other, dishes lay broken on the floor, chairs had been overturned.

There were sounds of very familiar low whistling and footsteps approaching, and Laura and I looked at each other’s eyes and saw panic.

“The Dean,” Laura choked.

We scrambled to our feet and adjusted our clothes. We both glanced furtively at the only escape route which would lead to our room or the rooftop and knew we’d never make it. My mother was already in the hallway.

“Just act like nothing happened,” I said, fixing my hair. “We can pull this off.”

Laura clapped a hand to her mouth to stop a hysterical giggle. I had mashed Chokoa Crunch on my knees and my top was torn.

Mother stopped in her tracks at the kitchen entryway. Her face quickly turned red with rage.

“Who trashed the kitchen?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“The neighbour’s cat, Mother,” I answered quickly. “The neighbour’s cat did it.”

 

 

 


	2. Cravings

 

“It’s spring break, finally!” Kirsch exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. “No more of that creepy-ass She-Hulk of a Dean,” he faked a loud cough, “Sorry, Will and Carm,” then went on, “no more books full of fucking crap, and other clichéd but true sayings along those lines.” 

Will finished off his first can of beer and grinned. “The beginning of our ‘Free at Last’ daily rooftop boozy binges and pub-hoppings,” he proclaimed, “wherein we end up off our faces or with a fractured skull and contemplate how to spend our misspent youth.”

I couldn’t help but scoff. “Youth?”

“Don’t even say it, Carmilla,” Will warned. “Please keep in mind that you’re surrounded by starry-eyed people, young at heart, in denial, regardless if they’re centuries-old.”

“Yo, Bro, enough of the dramatic monologue,” Kirsch called to Will. “Be useful and help me with this blanket instead.” The two Zeta lads grabbed both ends and let the blanket float down onto the rooftop floor.

As we were seated huddled on the dormitory rooftop, the delicious aromas of Perry’s baked potatoes and LaFontaine’s roast chicken wafted by on the cool spring breeze.

I just love Spring. A time to perfectly kick things off. A time when everything’s growing and thrusting and the sun’s shining, and it’s all so fucking happy. This definitely marks new exhilarating beginnings and adventures—especially for me and my darling Laura. 

 _My darling Laura._  I watched as Laura smiled one of her sweetest smiles, the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiles, those cute cheeks. I kept watching her, with this unexplainable affection for her taking over me. And it is when I realised . . . when you start loving someone unconditionally, there really is no definite ending. You just wouldn’t know. It’s like the least you could do is just be happy to see that person happy for whatever reason. And I’ve always wanted to make Laura happy and content. I just love those one thousand smiles on her face—this smile, above all. It gives me tingles too.

“Do you guys have any plans how to make our vacation epic?” Sarah-Jane asked, lifting her face to the afternoon sun. A red balloon flew aimlessly up above the sky.

“Swimming is on the list, definitely,” Natalie answered. She was sitting on a stool, painting her finger nails. “I need a nice suntan.”

“And camping,” I added, mindlessly tracing shapes on Laura’s bare thigh with my finger. A little chuckle escaped the tiny blonde’s lips.

“Hell yeah!” LaFontaine beamed, holding two thumbs up. “With bonfire and roasted marshmallows and scary stories and Monopoly Deal . . .”

“And heavy make-outs in the tents,” Laura chimed in, much to our surprise, eliciting some hooting from our friends. The tiny girl cast me a naughty sideways look then gave me a very meaningful, promising wink. Heat instantly surged through me. What a tease.

“Oh, boy,” Kirsch said, his eyes wide and twinkling as he plopped back down on the floor. “Laura and Carmilla, care if I join you in your tent?”

“Not until Sam Smith turns straight, darling,” I answered dryly. Leaning against the rooftop railing, I took Laura into my arms, swept her hair aside and placed my chin on her shoulder. God, she even smells pretty.

Kirsch scratched his chin. “So that’s like, hm, zero chances, yeah,” he mused. Then he leant close to Danny who was sitting next to him. “Danny babes?” He nudged her, raising expectant brows.

“Don’t even dare touch the zipper of my tent.” Danny threatened him with a piece of pickled cucumber. “I mean it, Kirsch.”

Kirsch then turned to Will, wiggling his brows. “Will, bro?”

Will shook his head. “Nah, sorry, bro. I don’t think Natalie’s gonna be so thrilled to hear about that.”

Kirsch threw his head back, cupped his hands by his mouth and screamed. “I hate being single! Someone, please, save me from this bloody loneliness!”

“Aww . . .” LaFontaine said in feigned compassion, patting the groaning guy’s back. “Seems like you have to find ways to entertain yourself, Kirsch.” Then LaFontaine beamed at us. “Wait, guys. Valentine’s Day is in three days. Got any plans?”

“I don’t believe in Valentine’s,” Kirsch said. “Not without someone to serenade or cuddle with or give a bouquet of red roses to.”

“Aww . . .” Danny said, giving his hair some ruffling. “Who knew Kirsch had a bit of cheese.”

“I’ve always been romantic, Summer Psycho,” Kirsch told the tall girl. “I’m just waiting for the right hottie to bring out the sappiness in me.”

“Will and Natalie, would you mind sharing your itinerary?” Sarah-Jane inquired.

Will frowned. “Nat insists on dressing up in matching Japanese  _kimono_ s and just stroll around the city,” he answered dryly, as Natalie grinned. “Please tell her it’s a ridiculous idea. She won’t listen to me.”

Kirsch’s face lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. “I think it’s a brilliant idea, Nat. Too fucking brilliant, actually!” he said, just to get on Will’s nerves. “And don’t forget the  _geta_. His get-up won’t be complete without those cool sandals.”

Natalie turned to Will, with a smug smirk. “See, baby? I told you you’ll look good in a  _kimono_. And we should get you a pair of those  _geta_ s as well.”

Will threw Kirsch a menacing look. Kirsch simply snickered.

Perry looked over her shoulder at me and Laura. “How about you, my favourite lovebirds? How do you plan to celebrate Valentine’s?”

My arms came around Laura’s waist, hugging her closer. “Hm . . .” I twisted my mouth. “It wouldn’t be special anymore if we reveal the details, would it?” Laura dropped a sweet little kiss on my cheek in response.

LaFontaine nodded their head knowingly. “Should I warn all our floor mates to wear earplugs come Valentine’s night, then?”

My jaw dropped. “LaF!” I shot my redhead friend a glare, and the others fell into fits of laughter.

LaFontaine pulled back with their hands up. “Hey, I’m just sayin’, Carm. I’m just saying one moaning girl is enough to keep me awake all day and all night.”

Laura threw LaFontaine a scowl, her cheeks now super red. “LaF!” More laughter boomed on the rooftop.

LaFontaine held up their hands. “What? I’m only telling the truth,” they maintained, smirking. “I heard those weird noises in the kitchen—”

Laura stared at our smirking friend. “LaFontaine, you know that I love you, but another word from you and you’ll never get to perform another lab experiment with your hands again,” she warned, waving a large wooden spoon at the short-haired ginger.

“Okay. Shutting up now.” LaFontaine pressed their lips together.

“Hotties,” Kirsch butt in, “as much as I enjoy listening to your bickering, your melodic exchange of words isn’t gonna feed my growling tummy here. So can we eat already?”

“Just a li’l heads up, though, before you dig into my cold roast chicken,” LaFontaine warned, “I am well aware that cooking is not exactly my long suit.”

“Admittedly we were all physically ill after the welcome party’s delightful deviled eggs,” Will commented ruefully, “however, we lived to tell the tale, and that’s what counts, LaF.”

LaFontaine gave him an arch look. “And just what did you contribute to this movable feast, Will?”

Will lifted his iPod and portable speakers. “Iron Maiden!” And we all groaned in protest.

“Be glad he’s not forcing that Rickrolling song on us anymore,” Perry said as she pulled plastic spoons and forks out of a paper bag she’d brought along. “Here, guys.” She handed the plastic utensils to us, ever the mother figure.

“He tries it and I’m gonna jam this fork into his eye,” Danny said threateningly. “I’ve had enough of that dancing Rick Astley.”

“Trust me, this chicken is punishment enough,” Will mumbled through a mouthful of drumstick. “It gives a new meaning to the term ‘over-cooked’, Chef LaFontaine. Just stick to your weird scientific tests, will you?”

“So I left it in the oven a little too long,” LaFontaine admitted. “I had to test some blood samples. I guess time just got away from me.”

“For what, days?” Will grabbed another beer and guzzled it to try wash down the dried-out chicken.

“Ignore him, sweetie,” Perry advised LaFontaine. “He’s a cretin who can’t appreciate good cooking.”

“Word,” LaFontaine agreed, filling their plate with Perry’s baked potatoes.

“Cupcake, wanna get some fresh air?” I spoke huskily into Laura’s hair.

Laura looked over her shoulder at me. “Carm, how much fresher can the air be?” she asked with a little titter. “We’re on the freaking rooftop.”

I bit down onto my bottom lip. “I know. But I was hoping somewhere I can be alone with my girlfriend . . .” I murmured, dropping a soft kiss on her shoulder. “You know, some quality time . . .” Then when Laura still didn’t budge, I quietly groaned, “I’ve had enough of these idiots already.”

Laura shook her head. “No. We can’t just go AWOL on them,” she said, barely above a whisper. “They’d be suspicious and start visualising a smutty show with a hot lesbian vampire and a tiny awkward blonde as the lead actresses. Are you willing to risk that?”

My mouth twisted up to one corner as I thought about it. Laura only looked at me expectantly.

I turned my attention to our short-haired ginger friend. “Hey, LaF,” I called. “Isn’t it that you left the brownies in the oven? Do you think they’re done already?”

“They should be in a few minutes,” LaFontaine replied.

“Laura and I will go check on them,” I said.

“Okay,” said LaFontaine, smiling. “Just bring them up here and I’ll make Will salivate over them. He won’t be getting a single crumb.”

I took Laura’s hand. Our eyes caught and held, her face flushed. My fingers were warm and firm as they wrapped around hers. My voice was soft with a hint of the devil in it when I said, “C’mon, cupcake. Let’s turn that smutty show into reality.”

 

 

 


	3. Kitchen Shenanigans

 

Later we were alone in the kitchen assembling the brownies, I caught Laura’s hand. “I love your fingers,” I murmured, running a finger along her slender ones. “They look so sexy . . .” I sensuously licked some brownie crumbs off her finger, not taking my eyes off her.

Laura narrowed her eyes at me and I saw them turn into slits of arousal. “You took me here for sexual ambush, Carmilla. I know how your crafty mind works. But you won’t be successful, I’m telling you now.” 

I took a brownie from the fancy glass dish and nibbled on it. “I’m not necessarily averse to being sneaky if the cause is just.”

“I’m gonna keep that in mind.”

I trapped her against a counter and kissed her on the side of her mouth. “Live in fear, Laura Hollis. I’m a passion-drugged woman.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so. And you’re just as whipped,” I said, a smirk tugging one corner of my mouth.

She arched her brows. “Oh, really? Funny, I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Don’t deny it, cupcake. You know I drive you crazy.”

“You’re lazy, self-indulgent, self-involved, abnormally perverted and cunning as a dunny rat. Of course, Carmilla, you drive me crazy.” She smiled sarcastically.

I leant in again but stopped barely an inch from her lips. I heard her breath hitch.

I smiled triumphantly. “Definitely crazy.”

“You just enjoy teasing me, don’t you?”

“Loving every second of it.” I lowered my mouth to hers and my thumb inched across her rib cage until it was firmly pressed into the soft flesh of her breast.

“Is this an example of your sneakiness?” she whispered against my lips.

I feigned indignant ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“You know very well. I’m talking about your thumb.”

“Oh, that.” My thumb lazily drew erotic circles. “Mmm, I suppose my thumb is a little sneaky.” I kissed her slowly and deeply whilst my fingers continued to massage. I watched as her eyes dropped closed, felt her body go pliant in my arms. “Do you remember the kitchen table?” I asked, my voice raspy against the shell of her ear.

She gave an involuntary shudder.

“That was just a warm-up, hun,” I said in a low voice that made her tremble all the more. “Someday when you’re least expecting it I’m going to make love to you . . . on the ironing board.”

Laura’s eyes flew open. 

“We’ll experiment with fruits and baked goods and salad oils and household gadgets and appliances . . . lava lamp, electric toothbrush, Panini grill.”

“Good God, Carm,” Laura gasped.

“And that’s only the beginning, cupcake,” I purred. “I’m going to make love to you in the broom closet. I’m gonna ravage you on each of the washing machines in the laundry room. I’m gonna do naughty things to you with the barbecue equipment on the rooftop.”

We were both red-faced and convulsed with laughter when LaFontaine appeared in the kitchen entryway. “What have you two been doing?” they asked with a raised suspicious brow. “We’ve been waiting forever for the brownies.”

Laura straightened up and gasped for breath, trying to sober herself. “Here you go, LaF,” she said, handing the plate over to our friend.

“Alright.” LaFontaine now looked at us with that knowing smirk. “They just started with the drinking games. You might not wanna miss Kirsch and Danny swapping clothes,” they announced before disappearing into the hallway.

Laura grabbed the other plate of brownies and shook her head at me. “You’re the biggest perve I know, and if I catch you buying a Panini grill, I’m calling the police.”

 

 


	4. Dumb Conversations

 

I watched as Laura picked up our mugs from the table and moved toward the door. “Sounds like a great plan—Hey, LaFontaine, I have to go. I’ll just meet you in the lobby at nine after the farewell party,” I said into the dorm lounge phone quickly. 

I hurried toward Laura and blocked her path. “Whoa, wait,” I said. “Where are you going, cutie?”

The tiny blonde didn’t answer but only looked over my shoulder.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, seriously alarmed and trying to find her gaze. “I was only kidding about the Panini grill.”

Laura looked at me, then. “This has nothing to do with the Panini grill.”

“Then what is it, sugar?” My eyes roved her face.

For a moment Laura only looked at me as if she was waiting for me to finally realise what the problem was. But I shook my head in puzzlement and her shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“It’s February 12, Carmilla. Our weeksary. And you didn’t seem to bother to care or remember,” she answered at length.

“Weeksary?” I echoed with an incredulous snort-laugh. “Who celebrates weeksary?”

Her expression was grave. “I do.”

“Laura, darling, this is ridiculous. In my more than three hundred years here on Earth, I’ve never _ever_ celebrated a weeksary,” I protested, halfway to a smirk. But when I saw her face grew more serious, the smirk instantly faded.

“It doesn’t seem ridiculous to me,” said the blonde wryly. “You really don’t care about us, do you?”

“I do, okay?” I quickly answered. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” I reached for her but she stepped away.

“I got you cake, by the way,” Laura said tartly. “It’s in the 4th floor kitchen fridge. Have fun eating it _alone,_ darling.” She started toward the door.

“Laura, hey.” I grasped her arm and spun her around. “I’m sorry, okay, cupcake? We’ll celebrate tonight after the dorm party. We’ll go out on a date or eat your cake or just cuddle all night in our room and binge-watch _Doctor Who_ if you like.” I shone her the sweetest smile I can give, hoping it would somehow soften the blonde’s heart.

But she was adamant. “Add ‘I’m a cynical cow’ to your About Me on Facebook, Carm.”

“Now I don’t even like me,” I joked.

Laura folded her arms over her chest. “My sentiments exactly.” She was bottling up a smirk, I could tell. Damn, I knew she was just teasing me.

“Okay, sweetie, just hang in there a bit. I’ll just—” Swiftly I reached for the lounge phone again. “Hey, LaF. I’m going to have to cancel on our midnight flea market spree later. Lauronica Mars issues. Sorry. Bye.”

Laura turned and started walking again.

I replaced the receiver quickly. “Laura, hey!” I dashed out of the lounge to stop her in the hallway. “I’m all yours tonight. Now, tell me, what can I do to make it up to you?”

Laura looked at me then, a smirk now playing in her lips. “Impress me tonight.”

“That’d be really easy, sunshine,” I said, sounding confident.

She raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”

“I have a secret weapon.”

“What is it?”

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it?”

“Dumb,” she said. “This is the dumbest conversation ever. I have to go borrow some books at the library.” She strode off and climbed upstairs to our room to change her clothes.

I waited for Laura at the first floor landing. A while later the tiny girl came flying down the stairs, stopped for a moment when she saw me, then started down again. I reached out for her as she skimmed past, spun her around, and pulled her to me with enough speed to make her catch her breath in her throat. The kiss was long and deep, stirring the embers of desire until I was sure they were glowing hot, ready to flame. My hands gentled when I broke from the kiss.

“Get ready to be impressed tonight, Miss Hollis,” I murmured. I watched the tiny girl sway for a moment, her eyes unfocused, and I knew I had accomplished my goal.

Laura turned without a word, probably wondering what my secret weapon was and figuring out how she’s going to be able to survive it.

 

 

 

 


	5. The Secret Weapon

 

“Hope you’re hungry, cupcake,” I said as Laura walked inside the floor kitchen, carrying a tote bag full of books on her shoulder.

I couldn’t help but smile. Laura Hollis was so incredibly pretty, walking over in a casual combination of button-down blouse and skinny jeans, her long, blonde hair dappled in the light overhead. _Very cute_. I reconsidered the word. Cute didn’t feel exactly right. Gorgeous was better.

In the beginning I had felt the pull of Laura’s brown eyes and sweet smile, and instantly falling in love with her had been half-serious, half-folly—a private joke on myself that held an element of truth. One morning I woke up and realised that I wasn’t just enamoured—I liked her. Really liked her. She was fun and bright and sweet. And there was a lot of passion bubbling below the surface. There was a breathless element to her kisses. It was as if she were always astonished, always pleasantly surprised by the chemistry that existed between us. I understood that astonishment. I felt it, too.

And one day, I became so sure. I didn’t just like her. I was falling in love with her. This tiny nerd had waltzed into my life all bright eyed and innocent, scaling my defences so easily. And she was the only one who had managed to do it.

Laura looked in the pot I had been stirring in. “Wow.”

My mouth curled up to one side. “Impressed already?”

Her tone was cool. “Not really. Just surprised. You’re not a useless vampire, after all,” she said. “And, fine, it smells yummy.”

“Of course. It’s my other expertise besides clogging shower drains.” I slid my arms around her waist and deposited a lingering kiss at the nape of her neck. “You ready for my secret weapon, cutie?”

“Forget it,” said Laura firmly, shifting her tote bag to her other shoulder. “I know what your secret weapon is, and it’s not gonna work, Carmilla.”

“That’s because you haven’t tasted it yet, darling,” I said smugly. “No one has been able to resist my secret weapon once they’ve sat down and feasted on it.”

Laura’s mouth dropped open. “That’s . . . despicable!”

I grinned at her devilishly and continued stirring the contents of the pot. “You’re going to want to have seconds, and thirds, then when you wake up tomorrow you’re gonna have an insatiable craving to eat more breakfast.”

A scowl. “Carm! Ew!”

My voice was silky. “It’s all in the spices, babe.”

Laura squinted at me, looking confused. “Wait a sec. What are you talking about?”

“My spaghetti sauce, of course,” I said, smirking. “My secret weapon. Everyone loves my spaghetti sauce.”

“Right. I knew that.”

“Whoa, dear,” I said, pulling back a bit. “What did you think we were talking about?”

The short girl’s gaze inadvertently slid below my waist.

“Laura?” I shot her a chastising look. “You thought that was my secret weapon?”

“Of course not,” the tiny girl said primly. “But you’re like the others. You think all it takes is a pot of hot tomatoes to turn us into slavering idiots. You think one look at your sauce would have me panting. Well, wake up call, Carmilla Karnstein, it takes more than spaghetti sauce to weaken my resolve.”

“Wanna know what we’re having for dessert?”

“No!”

I dumped spaghetti into boiling water and took a bowl of freshly grated cheese from the refrigerator. “Look, I’m sorry, okay Laura?” I said soberly. “I care about us. I care about you. If you want to celebrate being officially together every second of every single day and even call it 'secondsary' then fine.”

“Wow. That didn’t sound so forced.”

“Am I still not forgiven?”

Laura shook her head. “Nah. Your flowery mouth and pretty face ain’t working for me, hun.”

“Just so you know, my intention is to harass you nonstop until you decide you’re gonna go mad and start screaming and foaming at the mouth if you don’t . . . forgive me.”

“And you think this spaghetti is good enough to do that, huh?”

“Do you want a serious answer, or do you want to flirt some more?”

“Serious answer,” she said.

I moved to face the tiny blonde. “Look, I love you, okay?” I said earnestly, gently cupping one side of her pretty face with my hand. “I love you and I love knowing that I’m spending everyday loving you.”

“Not good enough,” Laura said, crossing her arms over her chest, and I pulled my hand away. “How did you learn how to cook pasta, anyway?”

“I had a little help from Betty.”

Her brows rose up. “Betty? You had a one-on-one lesson with that Finnish man-eater?”

“Yes, and why do you sound so jealous when she’s a _man_ -eater? That girl won’t touch me unless I grow a beard.”

Laura gazed at me soberly. “You didn’t tell me about this little tutorial. When did this happen?”

“Jeez, Laura. Do I have to inform you about every single private lesson I had with other people?” I asked her in disbelief. “Okay. Elsie taught me how to dance the flamenco which I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t do again because it made me look like a fucking weirdo. Natalie introduced me to the wonders of ingrown toenails. And I learned how to hack like a dude from Kirsch. Happy?”

“Sometimes you’re a prick, you do realise that?”

“We’re two of a kind, Laura darling,” I said with a hint of teasing in my tone.

“At times, I’m not surprised you’re related to the Dean.”

“Now, now. Don’t compare me to my mother. That’s below the belt.”

A few heartbeats of tense silence passed between us. I leant against a counter and pinched at the bridge of my nose.

“Are we fighting already?” Laura asked, her expression slightly softer as she stared at me.

“I have no idea. But you’re starting to make my head hurt.”

“You started it.”

“No, I was being decent the whole time. When you started to doubt my intentions, things got tits up.”

Laura tilted her chin up. “I beg to differ. The root cause of all this is you being a total twat not giving a damn about our weeksary.”

“Why are we arguing about these stupid things?” I let out a snort. “This is a dumb conversation.”

“Yes, it is truly dumb,” Laura agreed, moving to stand next to me at the counter. “Where does that leave us now?”

I nudged against Laura, my mouth caressing the rim of her ear when I spoke. “I suppose it brings us back to my secret weapon.”

Laura let out a giggle. “Spaghetti sauce?”

“Spaghetti sauce is only the beginning, sweetheart.” My hand snaked under her shirt as I kissed her neck then pressed my mouth to her collarbone. “Wait until you taste my pecan pie . . .”

Laura shivered. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “I love pecan pie.” Then her expression changed. “We shouldn’t do this here, Carm,” she said. “Someone or, worst, your mother might see us . . .”

I sighed and straightened up. “You’re right,” I said, turning the gas range off. “I don’t think Mother will let us get away with another ‘neighbour’s cat’ excuse.” Then I turned back to her, my hot fingertips sneaking up under her blouse, and raised my brows suggestively. “To the broom closet, then?”

She let out a laugh. “Jesus, Carm. You’re going to kill me.”

I went on looking at her expectantly, intensely, as my fingers continued to cruise over her soft skin. “Just pick a spot, darling.”

Laura regarded me through narrow lids and sighed, “I suppose  (choose an option below)  is the safest bet.”

Without another word, I held up a hand, and Laura dutifully clasped it and linked our fingers.

“You know, I actually like it when you get a tad bit sneaky,” she admitted with a dopey grin.

A smirk curved a corner of my mouth as I tugged the tiny girl out of the kitchen. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, cupcake.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 **HELP ME OUT HERE, PLEASE. YOU GET TO DECIDE WHERE THEY GO NEXT**. Just comment with the letter of your choice below.

 

> **( A ) OUR BED**
> 
> **( B ) THE LAUNDRY ROOM**
> 
> **( C ) OUR SHOWER ROOM**
> 
> **( D ) THE ROOFTOP**

 

* * *

 

 


End file.
